


Enraptured

by earthblooded



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Canon-ish, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Masquerade Ball, My First Smut, One Shot, Smut, basically an alternative version of the first few episodes except it's a few years into the future, except callum doesn't know it, loose plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27015088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthblooded/pseuds/earthblooded
Summary: The Kingdom of Katolis is hosting a masquerade ball. Six Moonshadow Elves invite themselves, using the opportunity to assassinate the King.Among them is Rayla, who is led astray by a certain human with forest-green eyes and a knack for dancing____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________All characters aged up. I'm treating this as an alternative version to the first few episodes of the series, where the events occur around 5 years into the future... and there's a ball, of course.
Relationships: Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 69





	Enraptured

“This is… weird.” Rayla stroked her now hornless head while inspecting herself in the mirror. She could see Lujanne standing behind her in the reflection, appreciating her handiwork.

“So long as you keep the amulet on, you will appear human.”

Rayla nodded and the moon mage slipped out of the room, allowing her to finish getting ready. She wore a royal-blue sleeveless gown that reached her feet where pearly white shoes poked out. The v-shape neckline was low-cut; the amulet to disguise her as human lay between her breasts.

She had her hair up, crystal pins keeping it all in place. This was by far the most glamorous she had ever looked, having never needed a reason to before. She lightly grazed her cheek; her face markings were gone along with her horns as a result of the illusion. The pinky fingers and curved ears would take some getting used to too. 

She only needed one more thing to attend the castle of Katolis. It was a masquerade after all. She pulled the blue mask over her head, settling it in place. It was encrusted with crystals similar to those in her hair. She sighed; humans really were the most ridiculous of beings.

Runaan appeared behind her, wearing a suit and a similar mask to her own.

“Are you ready, Rayla?” He asked, handing her her blades.

“Ready,” she confirmed. Taking the blades, she bunched up her dress and slipped them into holsters at her thighs. Runaan averted his eyes as she did so, fiddling with the sleeve of his jacket.

When she was done, he met her eyes with a steely look. “Let’s go.”

Tonight, they would kill the king of Katolis.

* * *

Callum did not enjoy parties. Usually he was able to get out of them, because most of the time these parties were in one of the other human kingdoms. He was a step-prince! He didn’t need to attend these things, the hosts only ever cared about the attendance of the King and Ezran, so Harrow usually let it slide when he made up an excuse not to go.

Not this time though. This time, they were _hosting_. “It would be rude to our guests not to attend, Callum.” Harrow had told him several days before during his suit fitting. “It would be rude to sketch during the ball,” he had continued, anticipating Callum’s next question.

So, there he was, sat at the royal table at the head of the room, in uncomfortable clothing, drinking wine as he watched people dance. The mask was also _really_ sweaty. He only wore an understated black mask; he wasn’t much for extravagance. It was going to be a long night.

Callum took a swig of wine. _Maybe getting drunk will make the night go faster_ , he thought bitterly.

“Ezran looks like he’s having fun.” Noted Harrow. He sat at the centre of the table, with Viren and Soren seated on his left. Ezran’s empty chair separated Callum and the King, leaving him on his own at the far right of the table, feeling isolated.

Callum cast a look over to Ezran. He was dancing with Aanya – well… sort of. He had Bait under his right arm, croaking along with the music and then he held Aanya’s hand with the other. They weren’t so much dancing as they were just spinning around in circles, but Callum had to admit, he _did_ appear to be having fun.

The King slipped into Ezran’s seat. “Why don’t you go out to dance?” Harrow asked, lightly nudging him with his elbow.

“Hmm. Three’s already a crowd with Bait there.”

“Very funny. I meant, why don’t you ask someone to dance? I can see a lot of eligible men and women out there just waiting to be asked.”

“I don’t know…” Callum chewed his lip.

“Why waste all those dancing lessons you’ve had?” Callum said nothing, but it didn’t stop Harrow’s goading. “How about this? Go out there and dance with someone and I’ll let you leave right after.”

Callum lifted his eyebrows in questioning. Harrow nodded and Callum stood up suddenly. “Deal.”

To prove a point, he danced with three different people before striding back up to the royal table.

“Goodnight!” Callum said defiantly. Harrow raised his cup in approval and turned back to his conversation with Viren. This was permission enough for him, as he turned to leave the ballroom.

He was about to exit through the large double doors when he saw her.

* * *

Rayla stood at the edge of the room, sipping a bitter drink that a waiter had offered her as she walked in. She hadn’t decided yet if she liked it, but she continue to drink it all the same.

Her mission for tonight, along with three other Moonshadow Elves, was to be back-up just in case anything went awry.

Runaan and his two right-hand elves were tasked with the assassination itself. They were scattered across the room at the moment. A silver-haired person was not suspect on their own, but six gathered together? Hair colour was not something Lujanne had considered apparently.

Being separated also gave them the space to observe the King and his closest allies. Viren, the dark mage, sat beside the King and next to him was the head crown-guard – his name alluded her.

On the other side of the King were two empty seats; the one closest to him was presumably for his son – Prince Ezran. Rayla hadn’t spotted the teenage prince yet. The other empty seat was a mystery. She hadn’t long walked in and the seat had remained unoccupied the whole time.

The attack wouldn’t go ahead in this room, there were too many people. The ball was a good guise to get into the castle without any questioning, so now it was just a matter of waiting until the King was alone. She watched as Viren poured the King another drink. _It’s going to be a long night._

“May I have this dance?” Rayla started, surprised she hadn’t noticed someone approaching her. The music and the sheer volume of people in the room must have been tricking her senses.

Before her, stood a man, his hand extended to her, a shy smile on his face. She hesitated, and quickly glanced around the room. She could see that some of the other elves were dancing with humans, trying to blend in. Some of them were speaking with their dance-mates, finding out information about the kingdom perhaps. It was a good idea.

She accepted his hand, placing her glass of mystery drink down on a nearby table. “You may.” Unconvincingly, she imitated a human accent, in an attempt to avoid blowing their cover. He didn’t seem to notice, continuing to smile at her as he took her other hand.

They swayed awkwardly for a moment, standing a foot apart with only their hands touching. Rayla bit her lip, she wasn’t familiar with human dances.

Her partner must have realised this because he pulled her closer. “Here,” he said, guiding her right hand up to his shoulder before placing his left hand warmly on her waist, while he kept his right hand firmly in hers. “I’m definitely not an expert, but you can just follow what I’m doing. Okay?”

She nodded, glancing over his shoulder to ensure the King was still there. He was.

“So… I haven’t seen you around before.” His voice was smooth, like honey, and Rayla felt a relaxation come over her as he held her. He guided her through the steps – it was a slow dance much to Rayla’s relief, and wasn’t too difficult to pick up.

“This is a masquerade ball. How can you be so sure our paths haven’t crossed?” She looked him in the eyes for the first time and was struck by how gorgeous they were. Like the forest around The Silvergrove. Something flashed within them when their eyes met, but she couldn’t have been sure what it was.

“I’d have remembered you.” He murmured. She felt her face flush and hoped to Gods that the mask disguised it. He spun her in a half circle and pulled her so her back was flush against his front. She felt his warm breath on the back of her neck, and she shivered despite how warm she was in reality.

With one hand holding her steadily by her hip, his other hand skimmed down her arm from her shoulder before his fingers interlaced hers. His touch was dizzying. She was glad he held her tightly; her knees were weak, and she suspected he may have been the only thing holding her up.

Leaning back against his shoulder, she angled her head to look at him, to find he was already looking back. His pupils were blown wide and he breathed shakily, leaning down to her lips. They had barely touched when he spun her again, much to her disappointment, she was surprised to find.

They continued to dance at an arm’s length.

“So, you’re not much of a dancer then? That’s curious, for an attendee of a ball to not be prepared.” He teased.

“I wasn’t expecting to be asked.” She informed.

“I find that hard to believe.” He pulled her in closer, their chests pressed together.

“Why?”

“You’re so beautiful.” He breathed.

Rayla’s heart fluttered in her chest, but she chose not to address the compliment, instead answering a previous question. “We have different dances where I’m from.”

“Maybe you could show me some time.”

Never in her wildest dreams could she foresee a date with this human ever ending well. She decided to ignore that heartache for now. “Maybe.” She answered lowly.

When the music ended, she stepped away from him. The other humans in the room applauded but her partner watched her curiously. After a beat, he bent his head, taking her hand and pressing a light kiss on her wrist. A sigh escaped her throat as his gorgeous eyes met hers again.

“It’s been a pleasure dancing with you.” His voice came out hoarsely. Rayla said nothing, not knowing what to say. She just stood dumbly, her cheeks pink.

The music started up again, something jauntier this time. It was enough to break his gaze from her and he groaned.

“What is it?” She asked. The music wasn’t terrible. It was upbeat and pleasant on the ears. She noted other people in the room laughing and arranging themselves into circles.

“It’s a group dance,” he replied.

“Is that bad?”

“It’s fun, it’s just… a lot of work. I can show you?” He held out his hand again. She accepted it without thinking and he pulled her into a group. One of the other elves – Skor – stood opposite her. Rayla sighed, relieved to see someone familiar. Everyone in the circle clasped hands with the person either side of them.

After another few bars of music, they got going. They side-stepped in a circle for eight beats clockwise, and then another eight beats anticlockwise. Next, they turned to a partner, in this case, she faced her green-eyed partner from before. He bowed to her, a cheeky smile on his face, then took her hands.

They spun in a circle, kicked their feet, clapped their hands and then she was passed on to a new partner to start the whole thing again.

She tried to concentrate on the steps as she danced with the next partner, but found she kept looking for him. Every time she found him, he was already looking at her, with a soft smile and maddeningly dreamy eyes. He paid little attention to his own dance partners, and she had to admit, she doubted she could distinguish any of the people she had danced with. They were all a blur, except for him.

Rayla found herself in the arms of Skor, pulling her from her lust-filled haze. They continued the choreography of the dance but spoke lowly.

“Have you discovered anything interesting?” Skor asked.

Rayla frowned. Right… she was meant to ask the human about the kingdom. She shook her head. “Have you?”

“I hear there’s another prince. He’s a half prince, not a blood relative of the King, just a child of the late Queen.” Rayla lifted her eyebrows in surprise.

They spun away from each other before she had a chance to make any comment. The dance continued and the music was getting faster, pushing them through the moves faster and faster, leaving less and less time with each partner.

_Okay, this is what he meant by ‘hard work’_

She was panting by this point. After years of training in combat, she couldn’t believe this stupid dance was wearing her out. She blamed the shoes.

Rayla spun and practically fell into the arms of her next partner and she finally heard the sweet sound of the music ending. She heard the applause and couldn’t help but laugh. _That_ was _fun_.

“You okay?” She recognised the voice of her saviour and met those forest-green eyes. Concern wrinkled his brow, but once he saw that she was laughing his face broke into a smile.

“Just warm.” She breathed. “Too warm.”

“You want to go outside?”

She looked over to the Royal table. Harrow still sat there and likely wouldn’t be retiring to his chambers for hours. She nodded, allowing him to guide her out of the ballroom.

* * *

This was a development. Callum should have been sketching happily in his room by now but instead he was taking this woman with him to his favourite part of the castle.

He couldn’t help it when he saw her. He had never ached to speak with someone so much in his life. Her beauty was staggering up close and a scent of lavender clung to her, matching her eye colour. He hated dancing usually, focusing too much on his footwork or just losing interest entirely halfway through. With her it was magic.

Set in the back of the castle gardens, was a stone gazebo. Plants curled around the arches and fireflies congregated around it. It felt hidden from prying eyes, despite being easily accessible to anyone. Callum often came here to draw when he was upset.

He sat down on the seat that outlined the diameter of the gazebo. The silver-haired woman settled next to him and leaned back with her eyes closed, breathing in the cool air.

Callum couldn’t help but watch her, enraptured by her. He could see her chest was flushed as he watched it rise and fall. A lock of hair had come loose, falling over her face and he itched to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. 

She opened her eyes, glancing over at him. He quickly looked away, embarrassed that she had caught him staring again. She only laughed lightly. “This place is beautiful.”

“Yeah.” Callum agreed, suddenly at a loss for anything to say. Harrow had proposed to Sarai here, on a night just like this, he’d been told. He didn’t think this was an appropriate thing to mention, however, not wanting her to assume he was thinking about marriage.

She sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. “Thank you for bringing me here…and for teaching me those dances.”

“Anytime.” He smiled. “This is definitely the most fun I’ve ever had at one of these things.”

“Is that so?”

“I’ve never had such beautiful company as yourself before.” He paused, licking his lips, “You have made a dreaded night perfect.”

“The night hasn’t ended yet. The music is still playing…” Her hand lightly grazed his, the touch was electrifying. “We could dance more.”

He watched her through lidded eyes, barely registering what she was saying when she had her hands on him “You want to go back inside?”

She hummed lightly, running a hand down his thigh. “Or… we could stay out here and dance.”

“Okay.” Glad to have a reason to touch her again, he walked to the centre of the gazebo, pulling her with him. He held her close, both hands on her waist, her arms around his neck. Callum smiled into her hair, breathing her in.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

She paused for a moment before speaking. “How about, we don’t do any of that.”

Callum pulled back to look at her questioningly.

“I just mean…” she continued, “we won’t see each other again, so it doesn’t matter.”

“How will I find you next time there’s a ball?” He asked, dipping his head down to the crook of her neck. She mirrored him, resting her own head on his shoulder.

“I won’t be there next time.” It was his turn to hum, and he leaned in ever so slightly, so his lips were just grazing her neck.

“Who will I dance with?” He whispered, and as he did so, she shivered.

Her voice was less certain now when she spoke, barely audible. “There’ll be others.”

“None like you.” He sealed his words with a kiss against her throat and she shuddered in response, her hands sinking into his hair. Emboldened by the reaction, he kissed a path up her neck, his nose sliding up her smooth skin as he did so.

Her breathing became laboured as he nibbled at the soft spot just below her ear and then traced his lips across her jaw. He paused just above her lips, their breath now mingling, and he waited for any assurance that this was okay.

This answer came when she surged forward, pressing her lips to his. He groaned deep in his throat and wrapped his arms tighter around her waist. His tongue ran over her bottom lip and he could taste the tang of wine.

She frog-walked him backward until he felt the back of his legs hit the seat, gasping as he slumped down into it. She stood above him, sniggering. His breath caught in his throat as he gazed up at her.

Her hair was much less composed that it had been when he first saw her, falling away from their pins; locks curling around her face. Her lips were pink and swollen and as she watched him with shining lavender eyes, she chewed at her bottom lip.

Callum couldn’t resist any longer and he pulled her into his lap. She yelped in surprise, but he soon aimed to make up for it by peppering her chest with kisses. He trailed his tongue back up from her cleavage to her neck, ensuring he lavished the area with attention. This earned him a moan as he licked and sucked. She pulled at his hair, clawed at his back and haphazardly ground herself into him.

They both gasped at the motion and their lips connected again. Soon, they fell into a rhythm, rocking against each other as they felt the delicious friction. The night air was filled with their pants and the muffled music from the ballroom. Callum wanted more.

At that moment, Callum saw other guests approaching over her shoulder. He tensed, squeezing her hips. They were laughing amongst themselves, probably just looking for somewhere to rest their feet. The woman riding him must have heard them too because she pulled back, looking at him fearfully. Callum wracked his brain, but it was too late.

The guests saw them in their position. They shifted uncomfortably for a moment before loitering away. Callum sighed in relief; confident they hadn’t recognised him. Advantages to a masquerade ball, he supposed.

The woman breathed a laugh and kissed him again. It was tender this time, no urgency at all, as if they had all the time in the world. She drew back after a moment.

“Maybe we should go somewhere more private.” She suggested.

“I know a place,” Callum breathed.

* * *

This had gotten out of hand. Rayla was supposed to be monitoring, watching the King’s movements, getting ready for when they strike. She kept thinking about what Runaan would say if he knew what she was doing. What _was_ she doing?

The mystery man pulled her through hallways, up stairs, around corners of the castle. All thoughts of Runaan and her mission melted away when he pulled her into a room, closed the door and pushed her against it.

His lips fell to her neck once again, teasing her pulse point and she bucked against him. He drew back, smiling deviously at her. _Gods_ , what was he doing to her?

She looked around at the room. It looked like it was someone’s bedroom. It was nice. In the back of her mind, she wondered whether the owner of the bedroom would come in at some point.

As if he had read her mind, he reached around her, turning the key in the lock. And with that worry eliminated, she pushed him toward the bed.

They continued to kiss as he started to fiddle with the zip of her dress. She gasped, suddenly remembering about the knives strapped to her thighs.

“Here, allow me.” She purred. “You just relax.” He fell back onto the bed, lying down as he waited for her. She made quick work of her dress, pulling it off and discarding it to the floor. The holsters and knives were slid under the bed.

She stood back up, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror in the far corner of the room. She nodded appreciatively at the choice of white, lacy underwear. Turning her attention back to her dance partner, she cleared her throat.

He sat up on his elbows and groaned when he saw her. Just the reaction she was hoping for. She straddled his lap and his arms came up to hold her gently. He pressed open mouth kisses to her chest and drew circles into the soft skin of her hips with his fingers.

She pushed his jacket off and began to work on unbuttoning his shirt. Rayla gasped when she felt their bare abdomens touch. The shirt was gone in a few seconds and she greedily licked and kissed his skin, feeling as though she couldn’t get enough of him.

His fingers glided up her back and she shivered when his hands came to rest on the clasp of her bra. He was struggling with it, grunting softly as he tugged. She placed soft, encouraging kisses around his lips and jaw. The bra suddenly pulled free. A sigh-turned-moan fell from her mouth when his lips and tongue replaced the material at her breasts.

He nipped and sucked, and she began to rock into him as she did in the gazebo. If she hadn’t been able to feel his approval through his trousers, then the desperate noises from his throat confirmed his arousal.

She sucked in a breath as he flipped them over. He sniggered, then continued to worship her chest. Her toes tingled as his tongue ran over her nipple and she almost didn’t notice him fiddling with the hem of her panties.

She chewed on her lip and shifted her pelvis, silently asking for more. He took the hint, now running a finger down the front of her underwear. Whimpering, she arched into his touch.

He kissed down her stomach, and held her thighs firmly, discouraging her squirming. Then it stopped. She could feel his warm breath on her, but he did nothing else. Raising her head, she found his forest eyes staring back at her. A mischievous look on his face. She couldn’t believe it! He was enjoying this, enjoying watching her fall apart in his hands.

She opened her mouth to object to his stopping when he dived down. The protest died on her lips, replaced with a moan as she felt his tongue taste her through the lace garment. He hooked his thumbs in either side of her underwear, slipping them off.

He wasted no time, delving straight back between her legs. Her toes curled when his tongue made the direct contact, dipping into her. He moaned against her, then teased at her bundle of nerves. She ground against his mouth, her cries getting louder when he pushed a finger into her. It wasn’t enough.

Her native accent came out thickly, not caring to disguise it, she was too dizzy with bliss. “Please…” she panted. “I – ah! I need you.”

He moaned again, finishing off his work by swirling her clit with his tongue. He crawled back up her body, kicking off his trousers as he went. Looking bemused, he gazed at her dreamily before leaning down to press a long, soft kiss to her lips. She lightly nibbled as his lip, tasting herself.

He inhaled sharply when she cupped his length. Now it was her time to tease. She reached a hand into his underwear, touching him for the first time. His eyes slid shut and she began to pump, and his groan reverberated in the back of his throat.

The last article of clothing separating them was removed and they stared at each other hungrily for a moment. His hand came up to caress her cheek and she wished he could see her, the real her. The way he looked at her was exhilarating but bittersweet. He was drawn to her in a human disguise and she naively imagined that he could look at her with the same infatuation as an elf.

She toyed with her necklace of a lie and he toyed with her mask.

“Can I…” He asked.

She shook her head. “We should keep them on,” she whispered, flirtatiously, “preserve the secret a little longer.”

He eased into her slowly, savouring the stretch. Her mouth hung open in a silent scream and she heard the man above her hissing through gritted teeth. Once he was buried fully, he gave her a bit of time to adjust, pressing lazy kisses to her throat.

It wasn’t long before she needed more, craved the friction. She thrusted shallowly, letting him know she was ready. He came alive above her, snapping his hips to hers quickly and deeply.

Rayla threw her head back, her speech unintelligible, her body arched as she met his thrusts with her own. He grabbed her hips, gaining better control as he thrust harder and the bed squeaked in protest beneath them. She savoured this sound, along with their slapping skin and his muffled moans in the crook of her neck.

His movements became jagged and she could tell he was close to his finish. He leaned up on his elbows, capturing her lips and began to slow his thrusts.

He moved at a torturous pace, likely prolonging his release to allow her to catch up. Her suspicion was confirmed when he snaked his hand down to where their bodies met, and he rubbed and pressed at her bundle of nerves. 

She felt the pressure build up and she arched against him, bucking wildly, urging him to keep going as her cries grew in volume. He swallowed her mewls in a searing kiss as she started to feel herself fall apart. Sensing her impending release, the man picked up the pace again, far quicker than before, rutting into her and grunting as he chased his own finish.

A high-pitched whine escaped her lips when she released, her walls clinging tighter. He met his end soon after with a strangled moan. Rayla panted beneath him and he gave a few more thrusts before collapsing onto her.

Humming happily, she embraced him, stroking his hair. She felt his smile against her chest as he lazily drew shapes into her skin. The intimate moment made her shiver with delight, but her partner misunderstood.

“Are you cold?” Without waiting for an answer, he got up and walked around to the side of the bed. She tried to hide her disappointment at losing his touch. He climbed into the bed, pulling the covers over him. “Join me.” He said, patting the pillow.

She crawled in next to him. She wasn’t much for sharing a bed with someone, usually she preferred her own space, but as she lay there with her back to him and his warm body curled around her – she wanted nothing more than to live in that moment forever.

A knocking at the door startled her. “Callum? You in there?”

Her partner threaded his fingers through hers reassuringly. “Don’t worry” he whispered against her ear. “It’s just my brother, Ezran, he’ll go away soon.”

They waited, holding each other tightly. He pressed comforting kisses to the back of her neck. The sound of footsteps retreated and faded, and he sighed in relief. Rayla, however, remained tense as she put the pieces together.

“Your brother… is Prince Ezran?” She turned onto her other side to face him.

He nodded, before correcting himself. “Well, step-brother, but yeah.”

Rayla’s heart sank at this revelation. She felt sick. She had slept with the enemy. Literally. She fought to keep the anguish from her face. “So you’re the other prince… Callum, is it?”

“I thought you didn’t want to do names.” He teased, taking her hand and planting small kisses in her palm.

“You should have told me that you were a Prince.”

He pulled back, hurt in his expression. She missed his warm breath on her wrist as soon as it left. “Why does it matter if I am?” He said quietly, eyes downcast.

She scrambled for something to say, some justification for her worry that wasn’t the truth. She dipped her head down into his line of vision, her hand teased at his chest. “It would be awfully scandalous if someone found out the prince had bedded a stranger.” Her voice was heavy with lust and she realised that, despite it all, she still wanted him. Her body still ached for his touch. “I’d hate to see your reputation fall because of me.”

“Hmm,” Prince Callum responded seductively. “I suppose we had better make sure this stays between us then.” He flipped her onto her back, nipping at her jawline as he settled above her. She responded desperately, folding herself around his body, kissing him frantically, feeling the fire building within her again. “Can you stay quiet this time?” He whispered against her ear. He ground against her and she moaned freely, immediately answering his question.

* * *

The sound of bells woke Callum up the next morning. He groaned into his pillow, his body felt sore and heavy. The bells were a familiar sound, though he couldn’t work out why.

The previous night came rushing back to him, his face cracking into a wide smile. He turned to greet her but found himself alone. He sighed, falling back into his pillows. She had left. He didn’t find out who she was. He’ll never see her again.

The mask still clung to his face. He pulled it off, discarding it to the floor.

A loud rapping came at his door and a guard spoke on the other side. “Prince Callum. You must come immediately.” The tone of voice was alarming, so Callum sprang out of bed and dressed. The guard led him to the throne room. Ezran was already there, rubbing at his eyes. Callum’s eyes jumped to the other faces in the room but couldn’t see the King.

Callum fell to his knees, now remembering the last time he had heard that bell. When his mother had died.

The King was dead.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time writing smut ever and it kinda consumed my waking (non job working) hours over the last few days. Now that it's written, I can finally focus on Guide to the East again. 
> 
> I'm keeping the story as a one-shot for now. I have ideas on how I can develop the story in the future, but have no intention of pursuing that yet.


End file.
